


Cutting it Close

by Ghostbxbe



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Depression, Gay Keith (Voltron), Hurt Lance (Voltron), Insecure Lance (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Lance (Voltron) Angst, Langst, M/M, Pining Lance (Voltron), Self Harm, Torture, Voltron, klance, relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-07 08:59:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15905085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghostbxbe/pseuds/Ghostbxbe
Summary: An alternate storyline where Shiro disappears from Voltron a second time, and everyone copes in different ways. Keith has a hard time handling it, and takes it out on Lance- completely unaware that the boy might have it worst of all. Being captured and tortured by Galran Soldiers is a hard weight for Lance to carry on his shoulders, especially when nobody even believes him.





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! This is my first time using this website to write. I normally use Wattpad but I figured a fan fiction would fit better on here. Anyway, I hope you like the first chapter! I’ve had this Klance idea in my head for a while now.

Lance knew that he had always been one to stir up trouble, he wasn't entirely clueless. More often than not he was getting himself in trouble from his goofy actions, but he had his limits, just like the rest of the paladins.

Yet he couldn't even comprehend what he had done to land him in the hands of the Galra, with no apparent way out. 

Sometime between his training with Voltron and now, he had given himself a head injury within the blue lion and woke up on a ship belonging to the Galra race. He just couldn't seem to put the missing pieces together, and little did he know, that would only be the beginning of not being able to keep control of his own thoughts.

His vision was concealed with some kind of blindfold, and his bayard had been taken away, as well as his helmet. He had no way to fight, for his wrists had been bound, and there was no way to contact the others. He started to feel his palms sweat as his anxiousness consumed him. His friends were going to save him. They were already on their way. Right?

There was no way he would go down without a fight though, whether somebody was coming to rescue him or not. Lance momentarily held his breath as a few Galra soldiers led him down a long hallway. Two soldiers to be exact, there were only three sets of footsteps going the direction they were headed. From what he could hear, only the one behind him was armed with a gun, because the other would've shifted it's weapon to open the doors in front of them. 

Lance knew he had to strike behind first, so he listened closely for the soldier in front to stop, signaling that it was about to open another door. He had to take his chance while that one was distracted, and the soldier behind was still walking.

Lance crouched down and swung his leg back before the Galra behind him could catch on, knocking it's foot out from beneath it. Lance slipped. The shackles binding his wrists behind his back had thrown off his balance more than he had expected, so he slammed onto his side just as the soldier hit the ground too. Lance heard the gun clatter, and blindly kicked it away, but what he couldn't see through his blindfold was what got him caught. 

The Galra soldier that had been standing in front was silently making it's way towards him, and Lance had unluckily kicked the gun right to it's feet. The second Lance tried to make a run for it, the soldier brought the back of the gun to his head, and knocked him unconscious.

———

Lance's eyes snapped open, but he couldn't see anything within the darkness of the room he was locked in. There were no windows, no lights, no furniture. The lack of sound was what really started to get to him after the days, weeks and possibly months of being alone. 

One thing Lance knew for sure was that the Galra had been coming in every now and then. Even if he couldn’t remember it, and god did he wish he could remember it, he knew that they had to of done something to him. The pain pulsating across his body was proof, but he couldn’t think about the times they came for him and brought him back, or if he even left the room at all. 

Lance couldn’t bring himself to move when his skin felt so hot and sensitive, but from time to time he would bring his legs up to his chest and cover his head to scream and block out the memories... or hallucinations. Sometimes it would be his friends coming to help him, and other times it was the Galra torturing him. Eventually it all bled together, and nothing he imagined was pleasant. He gave up talking to himself around the same time he gave up trying to count the days he was locked away. 

Other than that, it was painstakingly silent for a very long time. Until now.

At first, he thought the sounds of fighting were just another hallucination conjured up from his thoughts of being with Voltron again, but he knew it couldn't be fake when the floors beneath him started shaking. 

He couldn’t bring himself to believe it, but slowly struggled to pull himself up to his knees anyway as echoed footsteps sounded from the sliver of space underneath the door. It went silent again, and Lance panicked. He inched forward until the door crashed open and blinded him as the light flooded in. He covered his face with his shackle-clad arm until his eyes were adjusted. 

It was the Blades of Marmora.

A name wanted to crawl it’s way out of Lance’s throat, regardless of the bad terms they had been on when Lance was captured, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak through dryness in his mouth. He couldn’t remember the last time he had something to drink. 

The blade in front of Lance was very tall, and lifted him up by his elbow in one swift movement while keeping a marmoran sword tight in the other hand. 

With hands still bound in front of him, Lance let the Blade drag him out of the room. 

Lance had never been so relieved to see the familiar walls of the Galra ship, because it meant he was finally free and sane again. He could finally return to his friends and everything could go back to normal. 

At least, that’s the way he wished things had turned out. 

Once Lance had gathered enough strength from his adrenaline to get his feet to move, he looked among the group of Blades that had saved him, but none of them were any shorter than their usual height. Which could be interpreted a few different ways. With the circumstances Lance had been living with, he assumed the worst. 

“Wh-where’s Keith?” 

His throat was scratchy and pathetic, he hated himself for it. Hated being the blue paladin of Voltron and not even being able to walk a straight line or defend himself. 

“Where’s Keith?!” He asked louder when nobody gave him an answer the first time, “Is he on this ship with you? Did he go on this mission? Where’s Voltron?” 

He grew frustrated with every ignored question he asked. 

“Keith isn’t with us anymore,” one of the Blades finally responded, and Lance could physically feel the blood drain from his face. A small, incoherent sound got stuck in the back of his throat and he nearly tripped over his weak legs but the Blade spoke again, “He returned to being a Paladin of Voltron two days ago.” 

Lance let out a sigh of relief and tried to convince himself that he was only worried as a team member, not because Keith was his friend or anything. 

“Now, lets get you back to the castle with the others.”

———

Being on the Castle of Lions again made Lance feel lots of different ways. Relief- for one- but oddly enough he didn’t feel like anything had changed. As if time hadn’t passed at all while he was locked away. 

The only obvious differences were that Shiro was absent, and Keith had returned. Everyone in the castle had gathered around the Blade’s ship as soon as they landed inside.

Another feeling washed over Lance, but it wasn’t the excitement he had imagined it to be while he was impatiently waiting for the ship to make it back to his friends. He expected happy smiles, warm hugs and the whole shebang. Instead, Allura approached alone, giving him a tight-lipped smile as she undid his cuffs for him. Lance had gotten so used to the weight on his wrists that it felt foreign when the deep lacerations they left in his skin were finally able to breathe. 

Everyone else in the room seemed distant. It hurt Lance to see them so upset, and it hurt him more that he had no clue why they were to begin with. 

“We’re very happy to have you back, Lance,” Allura whispered to him, and turned to thank the Blades for returning the Paladin.

“Yeah, I can tell,” Lance grumbled sadly and pulled down the sleeves of his outfit, disgruntled that he was still wearing the same tight, dark purple suit the Galra kept him in while he was locked up.

He tried to lift his own spirits. Maybe they were shocked he was back? It had been a while since they saw him. 

Approaching Hunk first, he held out his arms for a hug, “Hey man, how’ve you been?”. If anybody missed Lance for even a second, it had to be Hunk. They’ve been friends forever. 

Hunk smiled, and pulled Lance into a bear crushing hug. “We missed you. Thanks to the Blades, we got you back sooner rather than later. We lost the coordinates to the Galra ship you were on, and Pidge thinks they jammed our signal.”

Lance gave a worried smile when Hunk finally released him. “I don’t know about you, but a few years doesn’t seem like ‘sooner’ to me.” 

Now the others were looking at him with confused stares. Pidge spoke up before anyone else could break the news. “Years? More like two days. Voltron would have to replace you with a new Blue Paladin if you were gone for years, Lance.”

Lance jerked in place, feeling a sudden and terrifyingly familiar sadness wash over him. Pidge’s comment had stirred something in him that never would have bothered him before being captured. He couldn’t think straight, he couldn’t respond. All he could do was repeat those two words in his head, “replace you, replace you, replace you.”

He knew in his heart that Pidge wasn’t being rude, and simply stated a fact that would be true for any of the other Paladins, but something- a part of him he couldn’t control- wouldn’t let him brush it off so easily.

His body suddenly felt unbearably hot, and he subconsciously gripped his sore wrists.

“Lance?” Hunk asked worryingly, cutting Lance out of the trance he hadn’t realized he was in. What had he just been thinking about? Keith, Pidge and Hunk were all looking at him like he’d grown a second head.

“Sorry, I guess being locked up makes you lose track of time.” Lance laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. He wanted to tell them that it really felt like years for him, and that the Galra must have done something to alter it, but there was a block on his words. Instead, he joked about it, making the others agree with him rather than worry. It frustrated him that the words he wanted to say weren’t the ones coming out of his mouth.

Once the Blades were gone, Allura and Coran called for a meeting in the kitchen.

Lance had settled himself against one of the counters with his arms crossed over his chest in a way similar to how Keith always did. To anybody else it would seem like Lance was mocking Keith’s stance in the doorway, but in reality, Lance was feeling super uncomfortable and trying hard to keep himself from fidgeting. He couldn’t pinpoint what was wrong with him. 

Hunk was in a chair nearby, almost like he was keeping an eye on Lance after the ‘few years’ comment. 

Pidge was distracted as usual, tinkering with some electronics at the island while Allura and Coran caught everyone up on plans. 

“Luckily, we’ve got Lance back, and everyone has a chance to rest before our next mission. The most important thing that needs to happen before that is the lion situation.” 

Lance spoke up for the first time since the meeting started, “Shouldn’t Shiro be in here if we’re going to talk about strategies? Where is he anyway?”

One moment, the room falls into complete silence, and the next, Keith’s fist is smashing through the glass right beside Lance’s head. Lance is too shocked to move, his eyes wide and his heart racing from Keith’s sudden outburst. Sure, they had always fought and bickered but not once had the two ever sent serious fists at each other.

“What is your problem?!” Lance shouts, finally able to move away from the shards and blood of Keith Kogane before he seriously ended up injured. 

Keith looked at him with seething anger and jabbed a crimson finger into his chest, “You, Lance. You are my problem. You being here, instead of Shiro, is the biggest fucking problem Voltron could ever have- that I could ever have. It’s your fault he went missing when he went to save your sorry ass,” he gripped the terrified boy by the collar of his shirt now, with smoldering black eyes that could intimidate the toughest of Galra soldiers, “and it’s your fault that we’re never going to get him back.”

With that, Keith disappeared, and Lance’s trembling hands gripped at his red-hot arms to try and dull the pain but it wouldn’t let up. Keith hadn’t actually hurt him, so why did it feel like his body was on fire? 

The others looked just as defeated when Lance gave them a look of desperation, and nobody decided to touch on the subject. 

“Alright, I think it’s time for some much needed rest,” Allura speaks, dismissing the room. 

Lance wastes no time in running to his room and locking the electric doors behind him. His self-hatred was consuming. All he could do was think about the black of Keith’s eyes, the shatter of the glass and the tiptoeing everybody else had been doing around him. Keith was right, everything was Lance’s fault, and he couldn’t help but continuously remind himself of that. 

He killed his hero. Shiro was dead and it was all because of Lance’s bad judgements and abilities. He couldn’t help it, he cried, and his mind wandered to what Voltron would be like without him. 

From his spot sitting against the door, he could feel the familiar burn again. The hot sensation that took over the last few times he questioned his role as a paladin. What had happened to make him feel this way? Was it the Galra’s doing?

One thing was for sure- Lance needed to do something about it, and before he could stop himself, his legs were uncontrollably moving to his bathroom, where he distmantled one of his razors.

His thoughts were all over the place, thinking about what Pidge and Keith had said. He didn’t deserve to be a Paladin, he didn’t deserve to be a paladin, he didn’t deserve to be a paladin. 

He didn’t want to do it, but he couldn’t control himself. His shaking hand gripped the blade tight and dragged it across his thigh in four quick and fluid movements, exposing the blood and causing Lance to internally cry out in pain. He couldn’t bring himself to scream, almost like he wasn’t allowed, so he bit his lip until it drew blood and threw the razor blade in the trash as soon as he could move his own hands again. 

His leg was bleeding everywhere, and he couldn’t explain exactly what had just happened. All he knew was that he couldn’t speak of it to anyone, as much as he would like to. As soon as he was changed out of the torn up Galra clothing and into the safety of his room again, Lance started to feel the memory of cutting himself slowly drift to the back of his mind, like he was no longer allowed to think about it.

He gripped his hair in his fists, “what the fuck is happening to me?”


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to make this a longer one, and I'm very sorry it took so long. With all the college homework I've been doing lately, I've been feeling super unmotivated to do anything. It's like creative block but I have no time to fix it. I hope this was good though. I wanted to fit more but I thought you guys deserved a chapter sooner. Anyway, enjoy a little bit of pining Lance??? And chaotic Keith????? (please don't hate me, lol)

Allura and Coran weren’t kidding when they discussed getting straight to work with the lions. Lance stepped out of his room after only getting a few hours of sleep, which was a rare sight. He was normally well rested- and he definitely needed the sleep after the nights he spent on that Galran ship- but after what happened when he was locked away in his room, he couldn’t rest as easily.

He could still feel the burning sting from the cuts on his thigh as they bled through the white bandages he had hastily wrapped them with. They were as deep as the wounds he would normally get in combat against enemies, and he couldn’t believe he made them so deep. What had gotten into him? He’d never done something like that before. Keith was supposed to be the self-loathing one in the group, not Lance.

He tucked his helmet under his arm and headed to the bay of the castle where the lions were kept. The others were already there, discussing the severity of losing the black paladin, which made Lance all the more aware of the pain in his chest. He cried for Shiro during the time he couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t help but blame himself. His hero literally went missing while trying to save him. Lance wouldn’t be surprised if everyone thought it was his fault.

“Keith,” Allura approached the grumpy boy, “we all know that Shiro wanted this for you. He entrusted this responsibility unto you if anything were to happen to him. Now it is your turn. Prove to him that you can handle this.”

Keith grips his helmet between both hands and gives her a look of disdain. “It isn’t what I want. Shiro will always be a better leader than me, and stop talking about him as if he’s dead. It’s too soon for us to be doing this.”

Coran steps in for Allura, putting a firm grip on Keith’s shoulder before he can bolt. “If the castle is attacked while we’re tracking down Shiro, we will be terribly unprepared and short one Paladin. It’s best to get adjusted now and return to normal once we get him back.”

The way Coran spoke of saving Shiro with certainty seemed to get Keith’s mood lifted. He stood in thought for a second, nodded, then set his helmet to the side so he could enter the black lion. After that, it was a matter of waiting to see how she would react to him.

Keith didn’t acknowledge Lance when they had finally been in the same room together after yesterday’s incident. Lance caught a glimpse of his bandaged fists and felt the beginnings of guilt even if Keith’s temper wasn’t entirely his fault. Lance stayed quiet either way, not wanting to talk to anybody in fear of saying the wrong thing again. The others had different plans though.

Hunk approached him first. “Hey man, are you feeling any better? I bet getting some sleep was exactly what you needed.” He patted Lance on the back and gave him a friendly grin.

Pidge joined in too, “Keith’s been grumpy all morning, but that’s nothing new.” Hunk gave her a warning look, as if mentioning Keith would set Lance off.

“You’re both right. I’m sorry if I offended either of you, I really had no idea. I ha-“

‘I hate myself for putting you guys through this.’ Say it, Lance. Tell them what you’ve been thinking. Tell them you feel terrible for putting Shiro and the team in danger.

His throat closes, he tightens his hands into fists and, “I’m feeling better though, you guys don’t have to worry about me. We should be focused on our paladin duties since we’re facing big risks without Shiro.”

The two nodded. Keith passed behind Lance on his way to talk to Allura, planning to tell her that the black lion responded to him (even though she was hesitant at first), but he couldn’t help himself after hearing Lance. His anger spiked again, and he lashed out instead of trying to calm himself.

“That’s funny coming from somebody who never took anything seriously before Shiro’s disappearance, are you sure you aren’t trying to take his place?”

Lance whipped his head around to face him, anger making his face similarly flushed. Now it was Lance’s turn to jab a finger into Keith’s chest, and push him back a step. “I never said anything about replacing Shiro. You and I may have had a rivalry, but I would never try to come between Shiro and his leader status. The only person not taking their responsibilities seriously, is you.” Lance couldn’t believe Keith would ever accuse him of trying to overthrow Shiro. The one thing he had always admired about Shiro was the fact that he was everything Lance aspired to be but could never reach.

Keith was seething, and shoved his helmet into Hunk’s arms during his plot to put his hands on Lance, but the intuitive boy caught on and gripped Keith’s arms behind his back before he could make a move. “Guys, maybe this isn’t the best time for one of your arguments.”

His words were lost to the two of them, their anger towards each other blocking out all reasoning and negotiation. This wasn’t going to end well. Even Pidge, who normally loved watching Keith and Lance duke it out, was fearful of them now.

“Paladins!”

They all turned in alarm at Allura’s authoritative voice. Keith was still shaking in anger, but Lance had realized his mistake of letting his own anger take over. He hoped to never hurt any of his friends or fellow paladins intentionally, and that included Keith, no matter how many times he got his blood boiling. Lance would always shake it off with a teasing insult.

He couldn’t help but feel guilty. He had been around a few times to experience Keith’s anger first hand, and understood that fighting or shouting was just his way of handling his emotions and stress. Keith couldn’t help it, it was just the outcome of how he grew up, having hardly anybody to confide in and nothing to distract him. Throwing tantrums became apart of his nature. Lance was the exact opposite, and would find solidarity in blaming himself or bottling up his emotions to make sure all but his own needs were tended to. It came with the territory of having lots of younger siblings and family members. Sometimes he just needed to set his own problems aside, but somewhere along the way he got too used to it.

Now he was letting his hurt feelings get the better of him. Normally, Keith’s words wouldn’t get actual anger out of Lance, but being accused of finding happiness in Shiro’s absence was what tipped him over the edge. He missed Shiro just as much as everyone else.

Lance took a calming breath and signaled Hunk to release Keith. He wasn’t expecting Keith to be completely calm just yet, but he also didn’t expect to be shoved back into the closest wall, Keith’s face mere inches from his own. A burning cough left Lance’s throat as the wind was knocked out of him from Keith’s forearm slamming acrossed his chest.

“Being a leader, a combat fighter, a technician and a computer genius beats any sorry excuse of talent you have, so I’d stop and think before belittling somebody else’s hard work if I were you. If you could ever catch up to us, you’d have the right to.”

Keith was a kettle, boiling over with anger that burned Lance to touch. It was becoming clear that nothing he said at this point would be able to stop Keith’s rampage. He tried anyway.

“Look, Mullet,” Lance shoved into Keith’s shoulders but the angered paladin didn’t budge, keeping him locked against the wall, “I can’t begin to understand what kind of pain you’re in from losing Shiro a second time, but you need to remember that we’re all hurting here. Put aside your usual selfishness to realize that we all want to help you, and equally need yours in return. When you finally decide to pull your head out of your ass, you can come talk to any of us about whatever you need. Beating your feelings into somebody else isn’t going to get you anywhere.”

Lance jerked his knee into Keith’s stomach, not enough to cause damage through the paladin armor but enough to knock him out of the way so Lance could storm off to his room; anger still piling up in his gut and skin burning from something other than Keith’s temper this time.

He couldn’t stop himself again, no matter how bad he wanted to. No matter how hard he gripped the door frame of the bathroom, no matter how hard he wanted to scream to let someone know what was happening, no matter how much he would’ve rather never touched a razor again for the rest of his life.

‘Any sorry excuse of talent you have.’  
‘Somebody who never took anything seriously.’  
‘If you could ever catch up to us.’

It was six cuts; deep, red and excruciatingly painful. Two more than the last time, and ten in total. Lance could only guess that there would be more every time he failed to stop himself.

He wanted to do something, but the only thing his mind allowed him to was bandage his new wounds and get rid of the evidence. Since talking to anybody was out of the question, he devised a plan while he waited for his anger to simmer and his legs to numb out the pain.

His first idea was to write a note.

Sitting down with pen and paper had been the easy part, but when it came down to explaining everything, he suddenly forgot how to write. This also happened when he tried to contact them through their messaging devices. His fingers froze up and in the end, he threw the little machine across the room.

That’s when Hunk rushed in without knocking and with worry on his face. “Is everything okay, Lance?”

Lance was on his knees in the middle of the floor, hands gripping his hair in anger and the messaging device was smashed to pieces in front of the door. He realized how bad it might have looked, and hoped over everything that Hunk would realize how stressed he was- notice the danger he was in. But of course, Lance had no choice but to open his stupid mouth.

“Yeah, I was going to text Keith an apology but I tripped and smashed my messenger. It’s all good.” Lance hated how genuine he sounded, hated how good he had gotten at lying since he’d been back, and hated that the stupid problem he had was forcing him to be dishonest with his best friend. His situation would never be solved if he wanted them to notice something on the inside but said something completely different on the outside.

“Well, I can fix it up for you. In the meantime, Coran and I made lunch for everyone so you can apologize to Keith in person if you want. I think what you said back in the hangar knocked some sense into him so he’s pretty calm now,” Hunk explained, and Lance was eternally grateful for every kind gesture from him.

Lance shuffled from the floor, helped Hunk gather all of the little pieces and headed to the kitchen, all the while a new plan was forming in his head. It had become obvious really quick that he would never be able to mention his self harm problem, or his time on the Galran ship, or show any emotion that would make the others suspect something is wrong and investigate. Nor could he write and leave evidence out in the open. So, he decided that he needed to act out of character in other ways, to at least get the others to realize that he hasn’t been himself. They would notice if something was off, surely? Shiro definitely would’ve. Lance’s heart lurched in his chest.

Hunk was right, Keith was in the dining hall with everyone. When he noticed Lance enter, he ducked his head and faced a different direction in his chair. It was obvious that he didn’t want anything to do with Lance at the moment. In turn, Lance should feel the same way, and that’s exactly what everyone would be expecting from the two. The silent treatment both ways.

So Lance dropped down in the seat directly next to Keith, and gave him his full attention.

The room was stunned, to say the least. Allura covered her mouth in shock, Coran dropped a spoon into his food goo, Pidge pushed her glasses higher up on her nose to judgmentally stare, and Hunk smiled encouragingly while giving Lance a thumbs up behind everyone’s backs.

Lance wasn’t bothered by their stares, but couldn’t reveal how giddy he was that his plan was already working. Keith met his eyes, violet irises a calming tone for once. They were far less intimidating when filled with confusion, Lance had to admit. It made his next words a lot easier to spit out.

“Are you okay, Keith?”

A few simple words. Lance would’ve asked how he was feeling instead, but figured Keith was more likely to answer a ‘yes or no’ question than anything else.

It was quite the opposite actually. At first, Keith stayed frozen to Lance’s words, as did the rest of the room. Not even the mice stirred in the vents. It had always been common for Lance to care about his teammates; making sure they’re well rested, playing with their hair when they’re stressed, and helping them with little tasks so long as he knew how. But never Keith. He respected that Keith was capable of handling himself, and didn’t feel comfortable going to others for help. That and he had rejected Lance the few times he actually had tried to look out for him.

Lance didn’t break eye contact, and caught every emotion pass over Keith’s face at once. Confusion, irritation, anger, doubt, until it was just straight up embarassment. His cheeks burned red, his hands clenched to fists in his lap and before Lance could grab a hold of his wrist, Keith was up and bolting out of the room.

Lance turned to the others in disbelief.

“You guys saw that too right?”

Keith literally fled the room looking completed flustered. It was probably the first time he and Lance had ended a conversation without actually fighting, albeit, Keith didn’t actually give a response.

“Maybe you came on too strong?” Hunk suggested but Lance shook his head. He had approached Keith in the tamest way possible to keep from scaring him off. Too bad that’s exactly what happened, and Lance’s plan had actually been working.

“Well, you have to think about it from his perspective, Lance.” Allura was deep in thought for a second, twirling a spoon in her teacup- a gift that Lance had gotten her in a space mall after she had ranted on and on about the ones back on Altea. “Keith normally shuts us down when we try to comfort him, you must have really caught him by surprise. Maybe he isn’t quite ready to confess his thoughts.”

“I’m happy to see you manning up though dude, you should retry apologizing when there’s less ears around. He might be more comfortable talking.” Hunk spoke, and Lance wasn’t allowed to crack a smile at everyone’s sudden concern over the words.

“Lance was gonna apologize?!” Pidge shrieked, actually looking up from her laptop screen for once. “Dammit!” She whipped her wallet out from her back pocket and handed over twenty dollars worth of space money over to Hunk. Allura and Coran weren’t far behind.

Lance was dumbfounded. He slammed his hands down on the table and raised his voice, “You guys placed bets on our last fight?!”

Hunk looked guilty, rubbing the back of his neck but shoving the money in his pocket nonetheless. “Not necessarily. We made it a long time ago over who would actually apologize to the other first. It’s been so long, I almost forgot about it.”

Lance glared at the other three with evil eyes. “Explain yourselves.”

Coran opted for the easy way out, “I’ve always admired how adamant you are, never stepping down from what you believe in.”

Allura smiled gently at him. “Keith has always been a troublemaker, so I figured he’d have more to apologize for as time went by. I didn’t realize just how hardheaded you both are.”

Pidge looked Lance straight in the eye and stopped her typing to shamelessly confess. “You’re clueless and stubborn as hell, and Keith is an emotional guy. I figured he’d have some sort of compassion buried under all that emo.” She sighs. “Guess I was wrong. Proud of you, Lance.”

“Whatever!” Lance huffed and turned away from the group, eating his food without chiming in on their conversations.

———

Training had been especially hard on Lance that day. Shiro had always been there to personally help him work on his weak points. Hunk was a tank, full of power and strength that could plow through a fight with fists or weapons. Pidge was the complete opposite- stealthy and agile- she could outsmart and slip right through an enemies fingers no matter the situation. Keith was Keith, but today he hadn’t bothered to join everyone else.

Meanwhile, Lance... Lance was the sharpshooter. Only if he could make his shots count. Other than that, the only thing he had going for him was his stamina. He’s been known to hold out longer than Keith sometimes, but that’s no help in a fight when he has no secret weapon.

But fighting had been especially worse when every little bump or brush against Lance’s thighs left him flinching in pain. It was hard to hide the discomfort, but he had no choice but to push through it.

Allura had joined them for once, even though she didn’t need the practice and was obviously more skilled than the other three, but she wanted to even out the group and step in on helping them polish their own techniques.

“Pidge, your maneuvers are getting better but continue working on using your weapon while moving at the same time. Hunk, you can improve your aim with your bayard on Pidge while she practices her dodges and blocks,” Allura commands, then turns back to Lance, “Lance, do you think you can summon the Altean broadsword with your bayard again?”

He considered it for a moment. “I wish I could Allura, but I haven’t been able to since the first time it happened, and that was an accident.”

She crossed her arms and hummed in thought, delicate fingers forming a fist in front of her mouth while her eyes searched the floor as if it would give her an answer to their problem. Lance glanced over at Pidge and Hunk, who were graceful fighters in contrast to their usual disaster-nerd selves. Every shot from Hunk’s gun grew increasingly more accurate, while Pidge either blocked directly with her shield or jumped away to avoid. They took turns, Pidge occasionally shooting her blade at Hunk while performing a series of step sequences which he would then take head on to get better at recovering from attacks. Their rhythm has been perfected over time, and it was no wonder they preferred to train together.

“I’ve got it!” Allura shouted, and pulled out her blue bayard in the form of an electric whip. It surged to life with energy, and she snapped it inches away from Lance's feet without warning. He jumped away, and activated his own red bayard into its familiar gun, but Allura knocked the weapon from his grip before he could use it to defend himself. 

"What the hell, Allura?!" 

She smiles brightly at him, sending the whip his way again with a zap, "I'm sorry, but I won't allow you to defend yourself unless it is with the broadsword. You must sharpen your skills in close combat, you can't expect the other paladins to have your back in every situation."

Lance kept his gaze trained on her, but the moment his eyes strayed to determine how far away his bayard was, the bright blue rope tapped his chest, singeing the skin underneath. He hissed. "Okay, okay, I get it," he says, and gets a running start towards his now unactivated bayard. Allura sends another strike directly for his upper body, but he catches on now, dropping to his knees to slide the rest of the way to his weapon. "Come on, come on," he whispers, trying to reimagine what he felt the day he used the sword. 

Nothing was happening, and Allura's whip had finally caught hold of Lance's ankle. He cursed as she pulled him back towards her, causing him to nearly fall forward onto his face. He panicked as she dragged him closer, so he flipped onto his back- gun ready to fire- but Allura was smarter than that. Lance barely had enough time to throw his arms up and save his upper body from sliding into the metal wall. "Would you stop draggin' me around? I'm not one of the ship's bots, this hurts y'know!" 

"And the pain your enemies are willing to inflict on you would feel a lot worse," she argues, releasing his leg but readying herself for another attack. Lance rushes to stand, but falters from the tingling sensation still traveling through his ankle. 

He lets out a deep breath, acknowledges the fact that he won't be able to dodge, and allows the whip to graze his cheek as he focuses. The painful hit and his calmed mind are what he believes to have summoned the sword. Lance had always been better at fighting when he was able to focus. Keith was always able to stay focused even while in close combat fighting, which was one of the reasons Lance would never admit to being jealous of him for. 

In a split second, the tables turn. Lance uses the broadsword to wrap the whip into his hold before Allura can retreat. He drags her this time, but puts more force behind it than he had intended. She trips over her own feet, and Lance drops his bayard just in time to catch her before she hits the ground. 

Keith decides to walk in right then, and Lance's heart drops. The dark haired boy had never looked so drained in his life, and Lance had known him long enough to confirm it. His eyebrows were drawn down in sadness rather than anger, his hair had lost it's usual curl from running his hands through it so much, and he wore a jacket with the hood up as if he had only shown up to watch instead of fight. Even his eyes were a dull black rather than their usual violet. Lance's anger over their fight earlier in the day was long forgotten in that moment.

His bayard deactivates on the ground beside his feet, taking the rare Altean broadsword with it.

"You've gotta be kidding me!" Lance groans, gently setting Allura back on her feet before picking up the useless piece of junk. "I was focused, I promise! Come back out for me, pretty please?!" As if begging was what would help him in that situation.

Keith sighs in disbelief at the sight before moving on to compliment the wonder duo paladins on their hard work. Lance sags over in defeat, not able to decide what he's more upset over. The broadsword disappearing or the fact that he couldn't impress Keith, the new leader of their group. It was probably a mixture of both. 

 


End file.
